


His Room

by JaneyBaney



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-12
Updated: 2018-06-12
Packaged: 2019-05-21 06:08:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14909811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JaneyBaney/pseuds/JaneyBaney
Summary: Alexander wakes up to an empty bed in the middle of the night.





	His Room

It was like a chill in the room. The windows were closed. And the door. The blankets were heavy. But he woke up feeling a draft on his side. 

Betsey was gone, her side of the bed tucked back over.

He sat up, listening first; perhaps she had just gone to the bathroom. He knew better though. He pulled the covers off his legs, and saw the crib a few feet from their bed was empty as well.

Pulling his housecoat, he softly opened their bedroom door and stepped into the hall. 

The children’s rooms on both sides, but none of the doors had any indication of having been the tiniest bit open at a point in the night.

Except the one at the end of the hall. A wide sliver of moonlight came from the open door. The single room, that had been cleaned, and cleared, and now sat alone.

The door was usually shut, no ever went in. There was nothing anyone needed inside it. The younger boys didn’t even go to play in there, though it was enough room for them too. 

Alexander felt his heart tremble. He felt it through the entire space of his chest it seemed, as he came right to the room’s threshold. The door was ajar enough to let out the moonlight and still obstruct his view of who was in there.

He softly put a hand to the door, and pushed it open until he saw the figure of Betsey. Standing by the window, in her dark green housecoat. Hair in a braid over her shoulder. And her arms holding a soundly sleeping babe, with dark hair and her eyes.

Perhaps he had gone back in time. Back to that little place they had first rented. When they were so young, and he was still struggling to find a foothold, and she was learning to get use to a smaller living space. And he sometimes would find her awake, looking out into the peaceful night. Holding baby Phil. 

She had to have known he was there, she had the hearing of a hawk. But she didn’t turn to him. Not until he had come next to her, and stared out the window at the same night view beyond. 

“I didn’t hear him cry.”

“I just happened to wake up as he did.” She said softly, “He looked ready to start in a few seconds, I didn’t want him to wake you.”

“I wouldn’t have minded.”

“I know.” She said, looking down at the sleeping baby. Alexander was too. No longer facing the window, he was facing her side. A hand gently cradling the head of dark soft curls.

Even after seven children, he found himself completely melting at the sight of their baby. 

The little beings, that were a mixture of them both. In this one he saw mostly Betsey. The eyes, the hair, the smile, even the high-pitched laugh that burst out from his little lungs, reminded him of his dear Betsey. 

“This is familiar isn’t it?” She said suddenly.

“Yes.” He said. The room felt colder.

“He looks like him.”

“He looks like you.” Alexander said smiling, “Yes ma'am, takes after mama. Right down to his eyes.” 

He saw she smiled at that. An arm went to her waist, and she came to him, like a magnet, the baby held between them.

“I was just thinking about him.” She said. “I dreamed he was here.”

“I still dream about him too.” He said, his face half buried in her hair. “My dear...My dear…” 

“Perhaps we should board this room.” Eliza sighed, her gaze for the first time moving from Little Phil to the room itself. The bare walls. The bare floor. It was so empty and cold. “We don’t even use it really. I use to think maybe one of the boys would want his own room but…”

But they haven’t said anything. James had been complaining three years almost that Angie, Phil, and Alex got their own rooms, and he still had to share. But ever since they cleared this one, he hadn't made a peep about it.

“I wouldn’t be opposed to it.” Alexander said.

Which was true. Even empty the room felt far too lived in to him. Somehow it seemed to still be full of Pip. As though there was still something left of his son inside it. Even without the furniture, the papers, the old toys in the back of the closet, and the band posters. 

Just standing inside, he felt as though it had been only yesterday he was waking a lazy teenager up for school. Or that just this morning, he had come out of the master bedroom dressed for work, the same time Pip was coming out of his. His face buried in a textbook he should have studied the night before. And they'd walk downstairs together.

How can a room, almost empty for six months, still carry so much life? How could an empty room be enough to make every ounce of pain burst from your heart, but just being there. By just standing inside. Even if you were holding the world in your arms.

“Betsey,” He said, feeling his eyes start to tighten, “Come back to bed.”

“In a moment.”

He nodded, and swallowed back what he knew would have been a sob. 

His arm wrapped tighter around her. The entire lower half of his face was buried in her hair. His other hand moved from Baby Phil’s head to between the crook of her arm, until his hand rested over her heart. 

Beating the same as his. 

“Not yet.” She said, her voice wavering. She breathed in, and he could feel the air in her body as she exhaled. The trembling.

Fresh tears were threatening to start. He tried to keep them away. Until he saw two fall down Betsey’s chin as she looked down at the baby.

He let his own fall as well. Being this close, pressing her close to him, perhaps he could suck all the anguish and pain that was still inside, that they both knew would always be inside, and carry it all for her. Take it all.

He many times had he wished to take it all back? Just enough for Pip to be here. Just enough that he went to Albany that summer. Just enough that she would never cry again. 

“Alexander.” She said, her voice struggling to stay clear, “Let’s move.”

“Yes.” He said into her hair, muffled. “Let’s move.”

She moved herself, and looked at him, her eyes watery. “Just like that?”

He nodded. “I think it’ll be good.”

She stared at him, a look that he wasn't quite sure what it meant, until despite where they were and what they have been crying over; she playfully slapped his shoulder and grinned.

Her face looked frozen in that grin, perhaps still processing the fact he had agreed to move that quickly.

And for his part, Alexander stared and then his lips curled upwards.

They both started to chuckle. Loud. Loud enough that Eliza put a hand up to stop when she felt the baby move in her arms.

After they quieted down, she looked at him, still beyond belief. “Move?” 

“You just said…”

“Yes but I didn't think…” She was still smiling at him, “Well, oh Alex I guess I'm not sure what I thought.”

“Do you actually want to?”

“I have thought about it.” She admitted. “Have you?”

“Yes.” He admitted, pulling her back into his arms, “I have.”

She rested her head on him, nodding slightly, before the exasperated smile began to shake and melt away. The strong emotions returned.

Because she knew what he was thinking, but didn't say. 

What he didn't saw was, “I have thought about it. But this was his home.”

It was what she had thought. So many times, just as she was about to say something to him about it.

And that thought, while standing in this room, holding another Phil, was what made her turn back towards the door. And head out the old bedroom.

They tiptoed back, quiet in the hallway, and said nothing more til she was setting Little Phil into his crib.

Alexander next to her, still holding her close to him with the one arm, and then the other as soon as their youngest was safely in bed.

“I do think we should.”

“You do?” She asked, blinking more tears away, “We don't have to decide right now.”

“I know.” 

“We'll have to fix the basement up.”

“I know.” He started to sway gently, holding her as though she may fly away from him.

“And break the news to the kids.”

“I know.”

“They'll argue.” She added, “ Hard. Like you.” 

“I know.” He turned her around, and she put her head on his shoulder.

“We've been in this house forever. A lot of memories here.” She said, “A lot of happy memories.”

“I know.” He said softly. 

“But, perhaps a change like that will be good.” She went on, “Somewhere to make new memories.”

“Yeah.”

He kept her in his arms, and they fell on the bed. Worked under the covers. Clinging to each other, like a child to a teddy bear. 

“Let's talk about it more in the morning.” Eliza said, “We don't have to decide now.”

“Okay.” He held her til she was sleeping, and long after. 

She’d be safe and sound in his arms. Even if he had to get up every night, to stand with her in that room down the hall. Even if the idea to move was only for tonight. Even if they'd stay here, they'd stay with each other.

**Author's Note:**

> -I can't find a description of Little Phil as far as hair and eyes, and his photo is of him at a layer age, I used artistic license.
> 
> -In this modern AU it follows the musical in that they don't move or in this case consider moving uptown until some time after Philip's death.


End file.
